Revisiting Australia with Hope Estate

Australian wine played a major role in the early days of my wine education. I was in graduate school, invited to one of my first “grownup” parties. The party was hosted by the boyfriend of one of my classmates, a debonair business sort who hailed from Sydney. He’d bought the local wine store out of Jacob’s Creek and Penfolds, it seemed. I was a beer guy at the time, but was always willing to drink for free learn about new drinks.

After that, Shiraz from Australia became one of my “have a bottle lying around” reds – largely because it was decent, inexpensive, and easy to drink. The Sweet Partner in Crime (who also has an Australian wine history thanks to her stint as a server at Outback back in the day…) and I went through our courtship consuming copious quantities of Rosemount Estates’ Grenache-Shiraz.

But times change and palates change. Most of the Australian wine available in my price range for many years was relatively uninteresting – big jammy reds, semi-sweet Rieslings, and steel tank one-note Chardonnay were always available. A friend of mine in the wine business referred to the inexpensive Australian juice as “Pop-Tart Wine” – because every flavor basically tasted the same. There were some higher quality Australian reds to sample, but many of them were out of our price range at that point. As my wine education took my palate to different areas of the world, Australian wine largely dropped off my radar.

Until recently, that is. My recent dispatches about the wine shortages brought about by climate change in North America and Europe prompted me to start looking below the equator for better wine values. Fortuitously, the wine fairy dropped off a package of wines from Hope Estates in Australia’s Hunter Valley, in New South Wales near Sydney.

Hope Estate, founded by Michael Hope in 1992, started as a single vineyard, but has expanded to an entertainment complex which includes a brewery, a café, and a 20,000 seat amphitheater – if you’re ever in the neighborhood. A four pack of Hope Estates wines got me rethinking the lack of Australian wine in my portfolio, as they were all quite good and sit at a nice price point:

Hope Estates 2016 Wollombi Block Semillon – I don’t know when the last time was that I tried a straight Australian Semillon. Must be a decade, at least. Semillion’s a native grape of France, where it’s usually blended into white Bordeaux or noble rotted to make Sauternes, the most expensive (and for good reason) dessert wine in the world. In Australia, though, Semillon is grown as a primary white varietal. If this wine’s any indication, I’ll need to work this into the rotation somewhere. This version’s a crisp, minerally white full of lemons and limes. Lots of minerals on the palate, which has a nice weight and a little honeyed sweetness. Most wines this acidic feel much lighter. Pretty floral nose, too. $14.

Hope Estates 2015 Hunter Valley Chardonnay – As I mentioned, for me, Australian Chardonnay always seemed uncomplicated and forgettable. Some winemakers seem to have taken up the challenge of improving these wines. This estate grown Chardonnay is aged in French oak with extended time on the lees to add to the mouthfeel. It has a very fruity nose -- bananas and pears, which leads to a full flavored body with a nice creaminess. The flavor yields plenty of pears and peaches, transitioning to a well-balanced oakiness. The finish is lasting, fairly crisp, and with a nice little smokiness. A nicely put together wine. Good value at $14.

Hope Estates 2014 “The Ripper” Shiraz – The first of two Shiraz bottlings in this set. Don’t be frightened by the name of this wine – “Ripper” is an Australian slang term for “Great.” Honestly, I feel like that’s a pretty solid interpretation of this particular bottle. Full of Oz-Shiraz red fruit-forwardness on the nose and palate, the Ripper pulls back into a nicely balanced middle of spice, licorice, plums, and leather. Not the fruit bomb you might expect from an Australian Shiraz, the finish on this is long and fruity, but with a solid tannic backbone. A particularly strong value at $18.

Hope Estates 2014 Basalt Block Shiraz – The “Basalt Block” is a parcel of land in the Broken Back mountain range with deep, volcanic soil, which lends an earthy characteristic to this wine not found in the Ripper. This one has a lovely nose of coffee and plums that transitions into a deeper, smokier fruit on the palate. Blackberry, graphite, and smoke entwine on a firm tannic base. The finish tickles on for quite a good length of time, with smoke and dark fruit alternating. Fans of Rhone Valley-style blends will really enjoy this wine. Again, $14.

Grenache -- Show Some Love!

I’ve been on a Grenache kick lately. This grape, grown…

…wait, come back! Where are you going? This is not a parody column! Get your noses out of the air and belly up to the bar.

I know, I know – your notion of Grenache may have been formed the same way mine was – commercials in the 80’s for Gallo White Grenache, a pinkish concoction (which I believe you can still get if you walk past the Boone’s) poured over ice. You know, something like this:

The commercials claimed “It will change the way you think about Gallo.” While I can’t speak to that, it certainly poisoned the way I think about the poor Grenache grape for quite some time!

Along similar lines, when the Sweet Partner in Crime and I were starting down our slippery wine-drinking slope, we used to go through Rosemount Estates Grenache-Shiraz – a dirt-cheap Australian red blend – by the virtual bucketful. At the time, it seemed perfectly drinkable, and it was a couple of dollars per bottle less expensive than the straight Rosemount Shiraz.

These days, if I recommend a Grenache to someone, about half the time they’ll look at me like I have a second head, because that’s the image Grenache has with many folks: cheap, uninteresting wine. What changed my outlook on this grape? As I’ve learned and consumed more, I’ve come to think of Grenache as the “red Chardonnay.”

Why? First off, it’s an incredibly ubiquitous grape. There are more acres of vineyard planted with Grenache in the world than any other red grape and the vines are generally quite high-yielding. These yields are a prime reason for Grenache’s bad name in the states, since a lot of those grapes landed in cheap jug wine. Forget the jugs, but remember the high yield. Because of this, winemakers can have plenty of raw material to work from, so even well-made Grenache tends to be less expensive compared to other grapes, so there are plenty of bargains to be had.

Secondly, like Chardonnay, Grenache-based wines are incredibly terroir driven. Grenache juice on its own, produces a light-styled wine, so the flavors derived from climate and soil can really shine. Good growers and winemakers, through smart cultivation, blending, and skill, can wrangle fascinating results from this grape. And they have all over the world, for years.

Finally, spring is turning to summer. Since Grenache is generally somewhat lighter in style, it makes a great red wine option when the heat starts cranking up, especially if you’re interested in something that has a little more oomph than, say, a Beaujolais. There’s a smoky undercurrent to most Grenache that just calls for food, especially grilled food.

A couple of weeks ago, K2, my Brother in Things Wine, invited me to do a tasting with him at the Party Source. I wanted to spread the word about my new grapey affection, so we ran down a series of Grenaches from around the world to educate folks on just how good this underappreciated grape can be. We put together an “around the world” Grenache tasting to show the breadth of what this grape can do.

We started our world tour in Spain, where Grenache is known as Garnacha. Many of the wines you’ll see from Spain’s Navarra region are blends that include a lion’s share of Garnacha. Garnacha is second only to Tempranillo among red grapes in the Rioja region, as well. Garnacha thrives in the Mistral winds, but rather than yielding a high-alcohol fruit bomb, it yields a lighter, smokier drink, like the Campo Vieja 2012 Rioja Garnacha. This is a quaffable wine with a very pretty floral and cherry nose. While light-bodied, it’s got good structure and finishes with lingering pepper and spice. Grilled pork, ribs, or ham would be great with this. ($18)

From there, we nipped over to Italy, specifically to the island of Sardinia. Here, Grenache goes by the alias Cannonau. The volcanic soils of Italy lend the traditional Italian minerality (which I think tastes a little “chalky”) to the finished product. Sardinian Cannonau, perhaps because of the particular terroir, has some of the highest levels of reservatrol of any red wine in the world. That’s the compound that makes red wine so good for your heart. For an example here, we had the Argiolas Costera 2009 Cannonau di Sardegna.($14) If you’re a fan of Italian wines, I’d put this somewhere between Chianti and Barbera on the “mineral vs. fruit” scale. Black cherry and licorice are the flavors I found most prevalent, but with minerality that would make it welcome next to a big plate of red sauced pasta.

For a change of pace, we headed down under to Australia. As I mentioned, Grenache was used in a lot of inexpensive plonk for quite some time, but in many regions, such as McLaren Vale, winemakers are exploring what this grape can do. In Australia, Grenache gains some heft on the palate and becomes much more fruit forward. A perfect example is the d’Arenberg 2009 “The Custodian” Grenache. ($13) Rather than the cherry and spice the previous wines showed, this one featured much richer blackberry and raspberry flavors, and the tannins turned much smokier. It’s quite a bold, pretty wine, in my estimation, which would be great with anything you might find sizzling on your grill.

The touchstone of Grenache, however, is in France. Grenache, along with Syrah, are the dominant grapes of the entire Rhone region. The finest (and most expensive, generally) wines in the Rhone, Chateauneuf-de-Pape, are made from as much as 80% Grenache. The less-expensive Rhone wines, usually labeled “Cotes-du-Rhone” are almost always made up of a majority of Grenache. That was no different with the wine we chose to illustrate French Grenache, the Cercius 2011 Cotes-du-Rhone, a blend of 85% Grenache and 15% Syrah. This is a rich, earthy wine that filled my nose and mouth with blackberries and a healthy dose of an earthy funkiness. It’s layered and complex with a finish that lasts and lasts. With any sort of roasted meats or vegetables, this would be a winner. ($16)

Finally, we arrived back in the States. The renaissance of Grenache in the U.S. was driven by a group of California winemakers in the 1980’s (led by Randall Graham) known colloquially as the “Rhone Rangers.” They thought certain varietals usually found in the Rhone, including Grenache, would respond well to certain California terroir. In general, California versions of these wines tend to be rounder and fruitier, and the Tablas Creek 2010 Patelin de Tablas ($19) from the Paso Robles region was no exception. This asskicker of a wine, which actually is a blend of Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre, and Counoise, comes on strong with a full mouth of blueberries and blackberries, but also a bit of a bacony flavor through the midpalate and onto the long, fruity finish. This was easily the biggest of the fine wines we poured and was the overall favorite of the folks who stopped by the table.

So…enough with the poor reputation of Grenache! Go get a bottle and try it out. As you can see, you’ve got many variations on the theme with which to experiment. Try them out this summer and beyond. Who’s with me? 

In time for Australia Day – A double barrel from Hardy’s

In case you’re wondering what to do with next weekend, since the Super Bowl is still a week away, you could consider throwing an Australia Day party. Australia Day is often likened to the 4th of July in the U.S., and there is a connection. After we declared our independence in 1776 and kicked the Brits out for good in 1783, the British Empire was in need of a new expansion. The British First Fleet landed at Botany Bay in Australia on January 26th, 1787 to set up a penal colony and outpost. The day became an official national holiday in Australia in 1994.

With Australia Day as a backdrop, the good folks at Folsom & Associates sent along a pair of Australian wines as potential accompaniments to however and whatever you’re going to be celebrating over the next couple of weeks, and beyond.

This pair of wines is from Hardy’s, one of the older winemaking operations in Australia. They were founded in 1853 by Thomas Hardy, who is not to be confused with this guy, the author of Jude the Obscure or either of these guys:

Nope. Not winemakers.

The fifth generation of Hardys currently operates the winery, which produces wines under the Nottage Hill, William Hardy, Tintara, Stamp of Australia, and Whiskers Blake labels. (Whiskers Blake actually makes a very tasty port, if memory and my archives hold.) This mixed pair pulls from two of these labels. Here’s what we got to sample:

Hardy’s 2012 “Nottage Hill” Shiraz – You don’t even have to get this wine to your lips to know this is an Aussie Shiraz. The nose is a dead giveaway. Australian Shiraz tends to be big, fragrant, and full of big, extracted fruit. This is no different. On the bouquet, I got big, ripe plums with a little cut wood in the back of my nostrils. The flavor follows right along initially. At first sip, it’ll hit you with a whallop of big dark fruits, but therafter it settles down a bit and reveals some nice structure with good, firm tannins that linger throughout. This tannin is necessary as balance for the considerably fruit, which turns more blackberryish towards the end. At $13, this is a very drinkable wine if you’re looking for a good winter red. I had this alongside a thyme-spiked mushroom and beef ravioli soup and it was a good match. Great with dark chocolate, as well.

Hardy’s 2012 “William Hardy” Chardonnay – This bottle turned out to be a very different style of Chardonnay than I’m used to. I’m accustomed to either the bigger Chardonnays of California or the leaner styles of Burgundy. This wine tries to split the difference. I saw in the winemaking notes that it’s a combination of fruit. It’s largely juice from cool growing regions, which usually means a leaner style, but it’s blended with some warm weather grapes to round it out. The result? I found a nose of lime and melted butter. The body is fairly substantial with more citrus flavors than the peachy ones I was expecting. The flavor transitions into an oaky finish that’s slightly cut through by more lime flavor. While there was apparently some malolactic fermentation, which usually turns chardonnay creamy, I didn’t get those flavors at all – although it did add to the weight, I’m certain. All in all, it’s not a bad wine, especially if you like citrus and oak. I think it’s a little pricey at $17. I think it probably would be good with shellfish or any sort of grilled fish or chicken.

Mod Ozzfest 2013 – A New Year's Taste of Australia

Another orbit of ol’ Sol is complete, bringing us back once again to the reasonably-annual Naked Vine New Year’s Feast & Festival of Sloth!

Ground Zero for the festivities

This year has been challenging around Vine HQ, personally and professionally. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I decided we needed to get away for a couple of days to unplug. For both logistical and financial reasons, we decided to stay close to home. We rented a cabin near Natural Bridge State Park and Red River Gorge for a couple of nights and decided to take our cooking show on the road.

Last year’s Feast ‘n Sloth (interrupted slightly by an exploding car radiator during an ice storm) focused on the cuisine of NewZealand. We cast about for ideas and decided to stay in that corner of the world. Australia hadn’t been on our list of “interesting cuisine destinations” until we discovered…Mod Oz!

The lineup.

For most of its history, Australian cuisine revolved around aboriginal cooking and the meat-pie-and-Vegemite imports from Great Britain. These comfort food-ish recipes lacked something in the “zing” department. Over the last 20-25 years, the increasingly multicultural population has begun harnessing Australia’s riches of fresh fruits and vegetables as well as its panoply of proteins. Modern Australian cuisine, better known as “Mod Oz” cooking, is a mashup of these traditional recipes with a crazy train of Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Indian, French, German, Lebanese, Vietnamese and Mediterranean cuisines. Intriguing? You bet.

One of the hallmarks of Mod Oz, aside from the lovely sounding combinations of flavors, is the relatively quick cooking time. Australians, it seems, love to eat but don’t want to spend a lot of time pent up in the kitchen. Right in our sweet spot! We found some recipes, hit the store, stocked up on a number of Australian vino selections, packed up Jessie Louise (Queen Diva of all Beagles) and headed for the Cliff Eagle Chalet.

Just getting warmed up.

We arrived mid-afternoon. We didn’t want to just show up at the cabin and start cooking, so we bopped into a nearby Subway for a salad to split as a snack. We got our keys, unloaded our groceries, split the salad, and opened our first bottle of wine – the D’Arenberg 2012 “The Broken Fishplate” Sauvignon Blanc ($16). A “fishplate” is part of a grape harvesting mechanism on a tractor, apparently. The salad – sweet onion chicken teriyaki, if you’re wondering – hit the spot, raised our blood sugar, and actually went well with the wine. (As an added environmental bonus, we ended up repurposing the salad container for all subsequent courses.) The Fishplate was grapefruity and crisp. We found this sauvignon blanc much less grassy than many its New Zealand counterparts. Very clean drinking and tasty. We saved most of the bottle for later.

Chicken & Kumara Curry

Our hunger slaked for the moment, we settled in for a bit, tested out the hot tub, watched a little TV, and eventually got around to starting work our first “official” recipe for the trip: Chicken & Kumara Curry. (Recipe links will take you over to The Man Who Cooks for further instructions.) “Kumara” is the Down Under term for “sweet potato.” We paired this with the Frisk 2012 “Prickly Riesling” ($10). The “prickly” refers to a slight effervescence in the wine – very similar to a Moscato d’Asti. The flavor is also reminiscent of an Italian Moscato, although not quite as sweet. Plenty of peach, tropical fruit, and melon flavors packed therein. The little bubbliness cleaned up the sweetness, creating a friendly quaff that was also a very nice pairing with our fabulous curry.

[Subway container repurposing: prep bowl for sweet potato. We also provided a beagle treat with each course. This time: sautéed chicken scraps.]

Pleasantly full, we slipped quickly into full flop mode for the rest of the evening. Come the morn, we took it easy for our breakfast course. We started our day about as simply as we could: Nutella on toast with a banana on the side. We wanted to ease into the goodies to come…because, boy howdy, was there some good stuff coming down the pike.

What's not better with Nutella?

The good stuff started with brunch, my favorite meal of the day. However, brunch usually doesn’t come in the form of King Prawn Salad with Peas, Asparagus, and Sweet Almond Dressing. One simply cannot do a set of Australian meals without throwing some shrimp on the barbie and these critters were grilled to perfection. We paired this loveliness with Wishing Tree 2009 Unoaked Chardonnay ($11), a creamy concoction packed with green apples and a little vanilla. On its own, pleasant enough, but when the creaminess of the wine met the richness of the prawn meat, what emerged was a little slice of heaven. We picked and slurped and made yummy noises for a good long while.

[Subway container repurposing: transport tray to and from the grill. Beagle treat: a few steamed prawn shells.]

Mmm...prawns!

After watching some basketball, the out of doors came calling. The weather was chilly but pleasant. We started the marination of a future course, bundled up, and headed to the Rock Bridge Trail in Red River Gorge – one of the loveliest short hikes in the United States. The beagle was in fine fettle – setting a blazing pace, attempting to clear the woods of rabbits, and working on clearing brush with her frantically wagging tail.

Beagle in gear!

After a record-breaking turn of the circuit, we returned to the Cliff Eagle for a float in the hot tub and the preparation of our next creation, Mussels in White Wine & Garlic Sauce with Pepperoni and Yellow Pepper.

Swimming in the broth is permitted.

What started off as a pretty standard steamed mussel preparation turned quickly into a headfirst dive into the pile of shells. Greedily, we pulled the mussels from the shells and let them float in this rich, delicious broth so that we could simply spoon it all up, bouillabaisse style. We had this with the rest of the bottle of Broken Fishplate. While the spice from the pepperoni made a bit of a funky pairing initially, the meshing improved as the course went on. Delicious.

[Subway container repurposing: shell graveyard. Beagle treat: a few pepperoni slices.]

More relaxation time ensued. Time passed. The sun dropped below the horizon. As night came on, we removed the final course from the fridge to allow our marinating meat to come to room temperature. As it warmed, we did a side-by-side tasting of two bottles of Aussie Shiraz: Mitolo 2010 “Jester” McLaren Vale Shiraz ($14) and Elderton 2008 Barossa Shiraz ($20). I can’t recall ever doing an Australian Shiraz regional comparison. We tried them with a couple of cheeses – an aged Gouda and a Parmesan-esque hard Italian cheese.

As a rule, Barossa Shiraz tends to be bigger, fruitier, and higher in alcohol, whereas McLaren Vale Shiraz tends to be somewhat more subtle in its brawny nature. These two bottles illustrated that very rule quite nicely. The Jester’s main flavors were cherry, bittersweet chocolate, and slate. It was full flavored without being overly heavy. It brought out some nice flavors in a rindy, Parmesan type cheese. The Elderton was darker. There was more of a rich plum flavor with thicker, heavier body and tannin. It was a better match for the aged Gouda we brought along.

Meat! Meat! Meat!

I was very curious how the wines would go with our “main” course, Lamb Kabobs with Mike’s Garligorge Sauce.  Our meal contained almost two full heads of garlic between the marinade, the garligorge, and the side salad we made from the leftover rocket, caramelized onions, shredded Italian cheese and sweet almond dressing. We discovered that the Jester may be one of the best wines to accompany garlic The Jester cut through the garlic and went well with everything, but…deer lawrd…the Elderton and the lamb were nothing short of utterly awesome, and I nearly wet myself after smearing the garligorge on the lamb. MOAR SHIRAZ!

[Subway container repurposing: Grill transport. Beagle treat: trimmed lamb fat.]

With full bellies, we settled in to watch what remained of a couple of bowl games and eventually New Year’s Eve festivities (but no bone movies). As the clock neared midnight, we broke out our last bottle, the Paringa 2008 Sparkling Shiraz ($13), to toast in 2013. The countdown began and I worked on the bottle. The ball dropped just as I worked the cork out.

Pfft.

The cork was flawed. There was no carbonation whatsoever, rendering the wine a sweet, vinegary mess. Oh, well – we’d more or less had our fill by that point anyway. We improved, filling our flutes with what was left of the Elderton, toasting in the new year with big ass red wine and a Lindt truffle. A rainstorm started outside and we crashed not long after, listening to the drum solo on the roof.

Bacon and beans. How can you go wrong?

New Year’s Day dawned. We were a bit bleary both from wine and from the random staccato the rain devolved into as the night went on. We had one more meal at the cabin before departing. An Australian “Fry-Up” – which is very much along the lines of your usual bacon and eggs – except instead of a side of potatoes or grits, the Aussies start their day with a side of baked beans. (“Our beans come from a can, as God intended” one Australian cooking website helpfully instructed.)

[Subway container repurposing: Bowl for dog food. Beagle treat: BACON.]

Replenished, relaxed, and ready, we bid adieu to the Cliff Eagle and said hello to 2013, with a newfound curiosity for Australian wines in our hearts and palates. We already have something interesting planned for next year’s jaunt, so watch this space around this time in 2014. It’s gonna be a doozy.

Happy New Year, everyone! 

Jeff's Wine & Dinner of the Month Club: The Last Hurrah!

Editor's Note: It is with a heavy heart that I present the last entry of Jeff's Wine & Dinner of the Month Club. What started as a birthday present for his lovely wife, Christine the Pie Queen, turned into a two-year labor of love for the Vine. Many thanks from the bottom of my Vinous heart for his well-written, love-driven, good-eatin' entries. 

Jeff, if you didn't live across the alley, I'd sure miss you...

****************

This is the final entry for the Wine and Dinner of the Month Club.  I started this as a present for my wife – a paired wine dinner cooked by me each month.  It’s been very well received and I plan on continuing to prepare the meals each month for Christine, but I won’t be blogging about them.  Thanks to all my readers and enjoy this month’s entry.  With the exception of the Coq Au Vin, for which I provide a link, the recipes come from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, Third Edition © 2010 by The Editors at America’s Test Kitchen.  January is also Christine’s birthday month, so I added an extra dessert wine as a special treat.

Menu
French Onion Soup

Slow Cooker Coq Au Vin

German Chocolate Cake

Wine

2008 Gerard Raphet Burgundy

2008 d’Arenberg The Nobel Wrinkled Riesling

I woke up early on the day I was preparing the dinner and started the Coq Au Vin.  This entailed browning the chicken and layering it over the chopped vegetables in the slow cooker.  I set the cooker on low and went about my day.  Don’t be surprised if the recipe seems oversized.  The chicken and vegetables cook down considerably and while I thought we were going to be eating leftovers for days, we actually had just enough for the two of us with a little for one serving left over.

Later in the day I started the French onion soup.  I cut the recipe to one quarter what was called for and it came out to be the perfect amount for two.  I simply cut up the onions and sautéed them in a sauce pan.  The recipe calls for using a Dutch oven, but we don’t have one so I improvised with the saucepan and it worked just fine.  Once the onions are dark and sticky (about 30 minutes) you add beef and chicken stock and some other ingredients and let it simmer.  In the meantime I baked a baguette and cut it into some slices to top the soup.  When the soup was ready, I dished it into our new soup bowls (given to us by Christine’s parents for Christmas) and floated the bread slices on top.  These I topped with some shredded Gouda cheese and put into the oven until the cheese melted.  The recipe called for Swiss cheese, but we had Gouda in the refrigerator so, again, I improvised.  The soup was hearty with a smoky flavor and was excellent with the Burgundy.

After the soup course, I dished up the Coq Au Vin.  This dish can be served over rice or couscous, but I didn’t think it needed anything added to it, particularly since we had already had the soup course.  However, I did serve it with the rest of the baguette.  After being in the slow cooker all day, the chicken literally fell apart, so it made sense to eat it more like a stew (thank goodness Christine’s parents gave us four soup bowls for Christmas).  Like the soup, the Coq Au Vin was hearty with deep rich flavors that went very well with the Burgundy.  Even novices like Christine and me can appreciate wine pairings.  A light white wine would have been swallowed up by the rich flavors of either the soup or the Coq Au Vin.

Finally, we had dessert.  Christine’s favorite cake is German chocolate, and it’s become a tradition for me to make it every year for her birthday in January.  I paired with the d’Arenberg Noble Wrinkled Riesling.  The wine was a very sweet dessert wine but not cloying.  The cake, while being sweet, is made with semi-sweet chocolate so it is not overly sweet.  I actually think this helped it pair well with the wine.  If the cake had been too sweet, I think it would have been a little overwhelming given the sweetness of the wine.

And now, a word from Christine the Pie Queen:  

I have thoroughly enjoyed my two years of wine-paired meals that have been amazing (ribs!), fun (WV debauchery and KY neighbor brunch!), at times strange (jell-o!), fattening (four cheese lasagna!) and just plain wonderful, cooked and served with love by my hubby. Thank you Jeff!

How does one motivate their partner to start cooking?  What is my secret, sly recipe?  Well, I did it with a little help from a friend of mine at The Naked Vine.  Mike had been the inspiration for Jeff to start brewing beer and making hard apple cider (both of which he does extremely well) and so, I said to Mike, “Now, how can we get Jeff more interested on the food side?”  I do the majority of the cooking around the house and just wanted to share that “joy” with Jeff.  Along comes my birthday and Jeff decides to buy me 12 bottles of wine for the next year.  He goes to Mike for wine suggestions and *BOOM* Mike sees his opportunity and suggests pairing each of those wines with a home-cooked meal…the rest now documented in pixels.  Quite a success story!  Thank you Mike!

And thank you, Jeff and Christine! Cheers!

A Chill in the Air, Some Whites for your Glass

I had a couple of requests after the last column (“A Chill in the Air, some Reds for your Glass") for a companion piece on cool-weather whites. As I ease into fall, I tend to think about white wines less. I don’t usually get a craving for a big glass of pinot grigio on a day where the wind is whipping the heat from my bones, but I can’t lose sight of them altogether. Dinner parties, social events, or perhaps the occasional 80 degree day in December might call for whites, albeit slightly heavier ones. Here are a few that you might want to stash away:

Yalumba 2010 Viognier – I haven’t had a lot of luck with inexpensive Viognier lately. Viognier’s a great blustery-weather white. It’s probably got my favorite white wine aromatics, but the inexpensive ones can taste a little bit “oily” and have an alkaline aftertaste. Not pleasant in my opinion and not my usual cup of tea. Still, since it had been a while and after happening along a few offerings from South Australia, I thought I’d give the grape another whirl. I was pleasantly surprised to find this one. The Yalumba (great name, too – Aboriginal Australian for “all the land around”) has plenty of peach and floral scents on the nose, followed up by a nicely balanced peach flavor. It’s “weighty without being heavy,” if that makes sense. Viognier is a great choice with a traditional turkey meal and it also works well with spicy stuff. As a bit of a warning, this is a high-alcohol white. It clocks in at 14.5%, which is around cabernet sauvignon level. Not to worry, the alcohol is masked with a little residual sweetness. Swirl well and approach gently. $9.

Villa Maria 2008 Marlborough Riesling – Staying with the Down Under selections, we pop “next door” to New Zealand for this extremely food-friendly Riesling. I found it to be a intriguing mix of some of my favorite “traditional” Riesling styles. My best description would be “dropping a hunk of pineapple into a glass of Alsace Riesling.” Alsace Rieslings are almost always bone dry and full of mineral flavors, while the pineapple reminds me of Pacific Northwest dry Riesling. Trust me – for some reason it works. The Villa Maria has a lovely tropical-fruit-and-flowers nose. I picked up lots of minerality at first taste, blended with the aforementioned pineapple. The burst of fruit quickly yields to dryness and flint on the finish. If you enjoy “drinking rocks” as I do, you’ll love this wine. At around $13, this is a nice alternative to more expensive Alsatian offerings.

Adler Fels “Kitchen Sink” (NV) California White Table Wine – I’m honestly not sure why I picked this wine up. I was browsing the California white section for a sauvignon blanc. Since I’d used “everything but the kitchen sink” in a work context that day, the faucet on the label caught my eye. I took that as a sign. I read the back label and thought, “Huh…Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc, and Gewurztraminer. That should be fun.” I thought it might have a little more oomph than a sauvignon blanc for the meal I was planning, and I wasn’t disappointed. Even though it’s comprised of over one-third California chardonnay, it’s still a fruity, acidic white. My first taste yielded lemons and tangerines. The finish is surprisingly crisp even with its nice weight. I thought it was very pleasant on both palate and pocketbook for around 10 bucks. What was the meal? Orecchiette pasta with chickpeas, greens, and grilled calamari (sounds weird, tastes nummy). Flavors from all directions made friends in this pairing. I would imagine it would stand up to cream sauces as well.

Gruet (NV) Blanc de Noirs – I would be remiss in putting together a whites column without throwing in a sparkler. One of the primary differences I find between French sparkling wines and other sparklers like cava is the “creamy” flavor that accompanies the fruit and the bubbles in the French offerings. There’s usually also a pleasant, somewhat “yeasty” aroma in the bouquet that reminds me a little of freshly baked bread. When I got a sip of this little number from New Mexico, I thought it was about as French-tasting as any inexpensive sparkling wine I’ve sampled. I found berries and cream on the tongue with good “mousse” (WineSpeak for “bubble strength and feel). The finish is toasty and pleasant. We cracked this as an aperitif for a recent dinner party for our neighbors (including Dinner Club Jeff) and it got raves. Around $12-13 and well worth it.

Wine & Dinner of the Month Club – July 2011

It’s July and that means parades, flags, fireworks and RIBS! This year Christine and I were visiting her sister Vida and brother-in-law (and my doppelganger) Rob and their two boys Orion and Jonas. They live on Bainbridge Island near Seattle, Washington, so we got to spend time with them and experience some of the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Since we were going out there, we decided to take the Wine and Dinner Club on the road. With luck and plenty of bubble wrap in the luggage, the wine made it in fine shape, supplemented by some Washington state wines that Rob picked up for the occasion. Enjoy.

Menu

• Barbecued Baby Back Ribs
• Sweet and Sour Slaw
• Coconut Grilled Corn on the Cob
• Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Wine (We had a GOOD TIME!!)

• 2008 Owen Roe Ex Umbris Columbia Valley Syrah
• 2007 Dominio IV Columbia Gorge Syrah/Tempranillo
• 2008 Sagelands Columbia Valley Red Wine
• 2004 D’Arenberg The Love Grass McLaren Vale Shiraz (Naked Vine Recommendation)

We started with some cheeses and cured meats as an appetizer. The cheeses were a manchego and a herbed goat cheese, and the meats were a spicy cured Italian salami and some thin prosciutto. They were served with a sourdough baguette and the first of the Washington state wines, the Ex Umbris. We had asked Rob to pick up another bottle of The Love Grass for the meal, but his local wine shop did not have it in stock and would have had to order it in special. When asked about an Australian wine, the person at the shop said, “Well, that’s one way you could go.” According to Rob, he then went on to espouse the superior quality of Washington state wines and pelted Rob with granola until Rob relented and bought the local fare. (That last part may have been a little exaggerated.) As I recall, and since there were four bottles of wine I don’t recall much, nobody was really bowled over by the Ex Umbris. It had a little spice to it, but not enough to stand up to the spicy salami. I thought it went well with the manchego and would probably be good with a simple piece of grilled meat. Thus, we decided it was a good M&M wine (Meat & Manchego).

After the appetizer we had the main meal which included the slaw, corn and ribs that had been cooking low and slow in the oven at 225 degrees Fahrenheit for about five hours. We did two racks. One I dry rubbed with Southside Market & Barbecue Premium Original BBQ Seasoning from the Southside Market in Houston, Texas and the other with Colonel’s Smoky Rub from Colonel De Gourmet Herbs and Spices at Findlay Market in Cincinnati, Ohio. To cook the ribs you just wrap them in aluminum foil, sealing it tightly, and put them on a baking sheet to catch leaking juices. You don’t even have to watch them and they come out supper moist and tasty. I always put a little barbecue sauce on them and put them under the broiler for a while to give them a nice glaze. Oh, and did I mention Rob is the source for my rib recipe? The other key is to wear an orange shirt!

The ribs were delicious and between the four of us we finished both racks. The slaw was tangy and a little sweet and was a cool contrast to the spiciness that the rubs imparted to the ribs. Of the two, the Southside rub was spicier with more pepper in the mix, while the Colonel’s Smoky Rub was just that, smoky. The coconut basted corn was sweet and was a great accompaniment to the meal as well. By this time we were well into the Dominio wine. It was good, but again, nothing really outstanding. We liked saying that the Syrah was tempered by the Tempranillo, but that was probably just the second bottle of wine talking. Before we finished the meal, we broke open The Love Grass. We thought this one was a lot different than the others and much better with more flavor and good tannic structure (take that granola boy). Or so I recall. Hey, give me a break - this was the third bottle of the night!

After the ribs came out of the oven and while we were eating, I put the pie in to bake. We took a long break after the dinner waiting for the pie to finish cooking and then let it cool while we cleaned up the kitchen. The pie was delicious with the sweetness of the strawberries offsetting the tartness of the very rhubarb, and the filling could not have been more local with both the strawberries and the rhubarb from Vida and Rob’s garden behind their house.

We finished The Love Grass and opened the Sagelands, which was good, but not too complex. It was a nice sipping wine to finish up the evening. Thank you to Vida and Rob for a great July 4^th getaway!

Starting up the Summer

I had the good fortune last week to co-lead a tasting with my pal Danny Gold from Party Source. The theme of the tasting changed quite a bit during our planning stages. We thought about doing wines from every continent or just sticking to cabernet blends from all over – but neither of those really rang true.

We each ended up picking three wines that were relatively inexpensive and we “just liked.” To our sold-out crowd, this seemed to work just fine. Only after everything was over and done did I realize that we’d unknowingly cobbled together a pretty decent slate of beginning-of-summer bottles: two easy drinking and interesting whites, a couple of light and flexible reds, and a couple of bigger red wines suitable for grilling. So, Since Memorial Day and the “official start of summer” are upon us, without further ado:

Cucao 2009 Pedro Ximenez – This light white caught my eye because of the grape. “Pedro Ximenez” (or “PX”) is the name of a Spanish grape used largely in the production of Sherry. (If you recall, I haven’t had the greatest experiences with that particular tipple.) Certain grapes do interesting things when planted outside their native home. I’m a huge fan of Malbec, which was largely a minor French blending grape until it was planted in Argentina. I thought I’d take a chance and see what the soils of Chile might have contributed here.

Turns out that the Chilean terroir is very kind to PX. The nose is quite lovely, full of flowers and spice. It’s light bodied and quite acidic like a citrusy pinot grigio, but with an interesting melony flavor and a slight “briny” taste that echoed the not-unpleasant parts of Sherry. The finish is light and crisp. This would be a perfect summer porch day wine and the high acid content makes it a match with many summer cuisines – fish or shellfish, chicken, salads, light pastas. At around nine bucks, it’s a pretty complex, intriguing wine. Certainly worth a try. Vote for Pedro!

Terra di Briganti 2009 Sannio Falanghina – Danny’s selection was another “unfamiliar” grape – this time from Italy. I admitted being somewhat skeptical. My first experience with Falanghina was the wine sent by Savannah Samson a few years ago. It wasn’t, shall we say, the tastiest of whites. Danny knows his stuff, though. This one won me over. Another light bodied white, although with a somewhat creamier feel. The flavor brought more tropical fruits – peaches and pineapples – to the table. The finish was soft and pleasant with a nice little acidic zing. Goat cheeses would go nicely, as would richer fishes like trout or salmon. Lobster would be divine here. I also found it very drinkable on its own. If you’re a fan of Italian whites, give this a run at around $15.

Domaine Dupeuble 2009 Beaujolais – I make no secret of my love of Beaujolais in the summer. I ask you, what’s more perfect for a warm weather bottle than a light, easy-drinking red wines that pair with almost anything foodwise and taste best with a slight chill? Sign me up! The 2009 vintage in Beaujolais was, by all accounts, a year for the ages. Some of the best Beaujolais are being compared favorably to higher end Burgundy. The 2009’s are now readily available and you should snap them up if you’re into this sort of thing.

Off the bat, lovely waves of rich cherry flavor and a bit of smokiness greet you here. Most straight Beaujolais are nowhere near this “full” tasting. Great fruit, nice acid, and just an overall sense of well-balanced yumminess follows. There’s a lot to pull apart in this wine, but don’t work too hard on it. I think it’s best enjoyed as a whole, non-thinking “experience.”

French wine can be confusing, as I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions. One thing you can do is to check the bottle of a French (or Italian or anywhere, really) wine that you liked and check the name of the importer. This particular Beaujolais is a Kermit Lynch selection. I’ve had very good luck with almost anything that has his name on it. Around $13.

Tenuta delle Terre Nere 2009 Etna Rosso – Danny was stoked about pouring this. The Rosso is from vineyards on the side of Mount Etna in Sicily which were left fallow for decades. Winemaker Mark DeGrazia opened these vineyards and made this red from the indigenous Nerello grape. The grapes are grown at the highest elevation in Europe for growing red grapes in soil that’s basically volcanic ash. The method of production is almost identical to that used in Burgundy. The result is a light-bodied, fragrant, exceptionally tasty wine that strongly echoes the flavors of French pinot noir. It’s very well balanced, has a light earthiness to the flavor that I really enjoyed, along with layers of raspberry and minerals. I’d nestle it up nicely next to light red-sauced pastas, grilled fish, or something like a chicken/veal picatta. $15-18.

Charles Smith “The Velvet Devil” 2009 Washington State Merlot – I like throwing Charles Smith’s wines in tastings when I can, since they’re just fun wines. Smith, self-taught winemaker and former manager of Scandinavian death metal bands, has a number of wines in his “Modernist Project” set of offerings. Modernist Project wines (easily locatable in your store by the black and white labels and interesting names) are designed to be wines you can crack, pour, and drink – but that aren’t one-note, unbalanced wines. I think that this merlot is absolutely killer. Blackberry, cinnamon, dark chocolate – all blended and balanced. For a wine this sumptuous, it’s very easy to drink. Grill some meat. Pour this wine. Eat. Drink. You’ll be happy. You’ll also be happy if you want something with a chocolate-based dessert later on and you have a bottle of this on hand. And at around $10, you can afford a couple of bottles.

Thorn-Clarke 2009 “Shotfire” Shiraz – Danny wanted to finish up with a bang, so he dug into the Australian aisle and pulled out this monster of a red. The Shotfire is a jammy, high-alcohol shiraz. It checks in at around 16% alcohol, so make sure you give it a few minutes to catch its breath after you open it before you dip your nose in. You’re hit with big, plummy shiraz flavor backed with a white peppery finish. While you get some enormous flavors, I didn’t find them overwhelming. You just have to know what you’re in for and plan accordingly. If you’ve got yourself a slab of barbecue ribs or almost anything else with a rub or a sauce that you want outside, this is your wine. Like many Aussie Shiraz, it’s also a winner with chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Right around $15.

Drink up and enjoy!

 

Technorati Tags: wine,wine tasting,wine pairing

The Alphabet Soup Project – G is for “Grenache”

A quick programming note before we get rolling. I’m going to be co-leading a wine tasting with Danny Gold on Wednesday evening (March 9, 2011) from 6:30-8:00 at the Party Source in Bellevue, KY. The cost is $20, but you get a $5 gift card. The theme is “California Wines under $15,” so come on down, grab a glass, and hang with us. Want to reserve a spot? Click here.

*************************************

I owe my earliest memories of Grenache to my folks. Back in the day, they usually kept a jug of Gallo white Grenache around for entertaining visitors. (In case you’re wondering, Mom – I never sneaked any…) Almaden, Rossi, Franzia – all of the major jug wine producers cranked out inexpensive, sweet blushes made from Grenache. White Grenache was what White Zinfandel eventually became in the wine market – a “refreshing” wine. (Gallo actually tried to market White Grenache as an upscale alternative to White Zin in the late 80’s. That campaign didn’t last long.)

Since pink, sweet wines were never really my thing, I put Grenache out of my head for a long time. Along came the Sweet Partner in Crime. In our wine-appreciation infancy, we powered through many a bottle of Rosemount Estates’ Shiraz blends from Australia. When the weather got warm, we’d replace our bottle of Rosemount Shiraz/Cab with their Grenache/Shiraz blend, since it was lighter. Once our wine preferences began to broaden a bit, our everpresent bottle of Rosemount got replaced with other stuff and Grenache again retreated to an afterthought.

Fast forward a bit. I started seeing Grenache as a varietal more and more, especially as French and Spanish wines became more common in my rack. But what is it? One way to find out…

Grenache is a high-yielding grape that’s extremely common in the world’s hottest, driest wine regions. It’s best known as the backbone of the wines of the Southern Rhone region – especially Chateauneuf-de-Pape and many Cotes-du-Rhone. It’s the primary grape in Tavel, one of the best regions for rosé in the world. In Spain, it’s known as “Garnacha” and the wines of Rioja, Priorat, and Navarra simply wouldn’t exist without it.

Post-Prohibition winemakers in California grew a lot of Grenache. The sturdiness and drought-resistant properties of the vines (not to mention the high yields) made it a natural match for many of the growing areas. The wines, however, were often of the aforementioned jug variety. This began to change with the advent of the “Rhone Ranger” movement, where many winemakers started putting together high quality French-style blends in the late 1990’s.

Rarely used as a single varietal, Grenache yields a fruity, low-tannin, medium-bodied wine. The French Grenache-based wines tend to be quite earthy, since the bitterness of the tannin doesn’t get in the way of the “funk.” Spanish Grenache tends to be on the smoky side. American Grenache blends usually are more

fruit forward. Most good Grenache is be easy to drink and extremely food friendly. As a pairing, Grenache works in almost any instance where you’d normally choose a pinot noir. I’ve seen Grenache described as “pinot with a punch,” and that’s accurate – similar flavors, slightly heavier body, and a more fruit-forward flavor.

The SPinC and I did a side-by-side with a pair of Grenache-dominant wines. The first was the Writer’s Block 2008 Grenache from Lake County, California. The other was Penelope Sanchez 2009 Grenache/Syrah from Campo de Borja, Spain. The Penelope is 80/20 Grenache/Syrah and the Writer’s Block is over 80% Grenache with some Syrah and Conoise blended along. Both retail for $12-15.

Both wines improve greatly with a little decanting. The Penelope, especially, was very “tight” initially. (Javier Bardem commentary withheld…) It took a few minutes, even after some heavy swirling, for the smokiness and tannin to start balancing with the fruit. Once it had a few minutes in the air, it opened into a nose laced with herbs and vanilla. The body is light-to-medium and is well-balanced cherries, smoke, and vanilla. Those flavors all twined through a long finish.

The Writer’s Block (one of my favorite names for a wine) was heavier. Like most American wines compared to Euro-counterparts, the Lake County Grenache wasn’t as subtle and had a much “stronger” profile. Everything tasted “bigger,” even though the color of the wine itself was lighter. The nose was cherries and bubblegum with much less smoke. Very straightforward. There’s more of a “leather and cigar box” flavor on the finish. The SPinC thought it tasted like black licorice.

For dinner, we grilled some salmon and roasted some cauliflower with garlic and balsamic vinegar. When we tasted the two initially, our first reaction was that we liked the Spanish version better. The flavors in the food made the wine taste bigger and smokier. After a few bites, though, we came to the realization that we weren’t observing closely enough.

The Writer’s Block was better with the fish. There was more tannin (as would be expected from a Lake County wine *add link*), so the wine’s flavors cut much more easily through the oiliness of the fish and stood up better to the grilled flavors. The Penelope was better with the cauliflower. The roasting and the balsamic brought out the sweetness in the cauliflower, which was a much more harmonious pairing with the complexity of the Spanish entry.

Both wines were quite good. They’re excellent values and either would be fine with almost any food, short of something really heavy like a cassoulet or a meal dripping with cheese.

One last point about Grenache. I’ve mentioned grapes like Alicante and Cannonau a few times in this space as varietals with which I wasn’t very familiar. Turns out that I was more familiar than I thought – both of them are actually Grenache. Whatever name’s on the bottle, it’s well worth your time geting familiarized or re-familiarized. I’m certainly glad that I did.

(Also, for remembrances’ sake, I tried a bottle of the old Rosemount Estates Grenache/Syrah. Interesting how time changes one's view of things. Sweetish nose of blackberry jam. Lots of fruit on the palate and a little noticeable residual sugar. The finish is fruity and you sort of have to hunt for the tannins in the blend. I wouldn’t pick it for a normal tipple these days. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, I guess…)

 

Technorati Tags: wine,Grenache,California,Spain,France

TNV’s Guide to Wine and Cheese – Part III (stinky cheese)

After our forays into hard and soft cheeses, the time has arrived to have a peek of the most polarizing province of the cheese kingdom, stinky cheeses. They’re sometimes known as “pungent,” “blooming,” or “blue” cheeses. So, what are they, and where the heck does that smell come from?

As we discussed in the other entries, cheese is created by allowing milk to curdle, separating the curd from the whey, pressing the curd into a certain shape – then, usually, aging the cheese for a certain period of time. The older the cheese, the stronger or sharper the taste and smell usually become. Stinky cheeses are all aged. What makes them different from, say, cheddar?

With most hard, longer aged cheeses, the chemical and bacterial makeup of the cheeses prevent the formation of various kinds of mold and bacteria. With stinky cheeses, the growth of that mold is not only desirable – it’s encouraged! There are two major processes a cheesemaker uses to “stink up” a cheese: from the outside in and from the inside out.

The “outside in” cheese is usually referred to as a washed rind cheese. Once the cheese’s rind forms, the entire block of cheese is cured for a period of time in brine and/or other substances which can bear mold – usually some type of alcohol. Beer, wine, and brandy are common additions to the wash, along with certain spices. Curing the rind in this solution allows the formation of a certain type of bacteria that imparts the stronger flavors and scents to the cheese. A washed rind cheese can be soft or hard. While the rind usually has a very strong scent, the cheese itself is often somewhat mild. Examples are Limburger, Munster (not Muenster!), and Taleggio.

The “inside out” cheeses are known as inoculated cheeses. An inoculated cheese begins its change from normal to noxious early in its lifetime. While the cheese curds are still loose, they’re injected with a specific type of mold – one from the Penicillum genus. This mold has been used to stinkify cheeses for over 2000 years. As the mold propagates, it forms veins through the cheese, altering the texture, flavor, and odor. “Blue” cheeses are in this category, although the mold can also be brown or green, depending on the specific type of mold involved. Common examples of this type of cheese are Roquefort, Stilton, and Gorgonzola. (As a side note -- this is the same type of mold from which Penicillin was first synthesized when it was discovered that certain bacteria don’t grow in the presence of the mold)

We chose three cheeses for our tasting, along with some “classic” wine pairings:

• Taleggio (pairing: Alsace Riesling)
• Stilton (pairing: Australian tawny port)
• Roquefort (pairing: Sauternes)

You may be looking at those pairings and thinking, “One of these things is not like the other.” You’d be right. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Sauternes, it’s a sweet, expensive French wine that was simply unbelievable, flavorwise. Sauternes is a “botyrized” wine, meaning that the grapes have also molded with “noble rot.” There are other, less expensive, wines made in a similar fashion. Ask your neighborhood wine person. As an alternative, an Auslese Riesling or a ruby (rather than tawny) port will work. Still, follow the link above if you want to read how that wine made our eyes roll back. Otherwise, onward:

Taleggio – A cow’s milk cheese named for Val Taleggio, the valley in Lombardy, Italy, from where this cheese hails. It’s a washed rind cheese, traditionally sponged with seawater once a week during the 6-10 week aging process. The finished product has a whitish rind like brie, but the two smell nothing alike.

I was introduced to Taleggio via one of my coworkers who simply told me, “It’s good stuff.” When I unwrapped it, I have to admit to a moment of dubiousness. There’s no better way to put it – the stuff smelled like feet. However, once I got some of it on a cracker, my opinion rapidly changed. The cheese does have an earthy funk to it, but it’s light. It’s creamy and the flavor is nicely balanced. Very tasty on its own.

Matched with the wines, the Riesling was the best pairing by far. The wine amplifies the funk and brings out some more complex flavors in the cheese itself. However, I would suggest a slightly sweeter Riesling rather than a dry one. The cheese turned the wine somewhat too sharp and metallic. Even just an off-dry Riesling would be enough to keep out the potential unpleasantness. As for the other two – well, I have in my notes, “Poor Taleggio.” Both the Sauternes and Port absolutely overwhelmed this cheese. In my opinion, this would be a great cheese to melt into risotto or some kind of pasta sauce, but on its own, you may get a bad match if you put it on your holiday cheese plate.

Stilton – Another cow’s milk cheese that you’ll find colored either white or yellow. For a cheese to be legally Stilton, it must be made in County Derbyshire, Leicestershire or Nottinghamshire, England. Interestingly, the village of Stilton is not in any of those counties, but instead in the nearby County Cambridgeshire, thus rendering it illegal to produce Stilton in Stilton, for reasons known only to British royalty. Also, Stilton must be made from pasteurized milk rather than raw. (I assume this is to prevent unwanted bacteria from growing.) Stilton is made by piercing the cheese blocks with needles, allowing air bearing the mold into the core of the cheese. Aging of the cheese takes about nine weeks.

On its own, it’s a very full-flavored cheese with a strong salty flavor. The traditional food pairing with Stilton is pears. Sure enough, the two of them meshed very well. The pear-sweetness was an excellent balance for the funky, salty cheese. The traditional wine pairing is port. It was very good. The flavors meshed nicely, and, again, the sweetness of the wine balanced the cheese. The Riesling was pleasant enough. Both experiences, though, paled next to the Stilton with the Sauternes. A little of the cheese, a pear, and the Sauternes was eye-crossingly good. However, I wasn’t trying it with $70 port, so it might not have been the fairest comparison.

Roquefort – This cheese is produced from sheep’s milk and comes from a specific region in the south of France. The particular mold that gives this cheese its particular flavor is found in the soil of nearby caves. The traditional method of making this cheeses involves leaving loaves of bread in the caves until they’re consumed by mold. The moldy bread is then ground into powder and mixed with the curd. The cheese is then aged for about five months. It’s a white cheese, crumbly, and shot through with the mold, which is usually a bright green.

The initial smell of this cheese can set you back a step, but the flavor is one of super creamy goodness. It’s very earthy and salty with a rich consistency and a buttery finish that just goes on and on. “Buttery, yummy mold in your mouth” was a comment from one of us. The Riesling and Port were only average companions for the Roquefort. Neither was particularly outstanding – but few things prepared us for the Sauternes. All of the flavors are very powerful, but they all work together. They practically rotated on our tongues, trading back and forth between the earth and the sweet. After a couple of bites, they settled down, meshing into a combination that simply demanded savoring over a long period of time. Which is exactly what we did, happily.

Quick Hits – 10 Wines around $10 for the Season

Ah, the time of the year when big dinners, social events, and travel plans thicken on the calendar like grandma’s gravy. If you’re anything like we are, you’re always grabbing a bottle of wine or two to carry along. A few folks have asked me for wine suggestions, so I thought I’d shoot along a range for you to choose from, depending on your taste and the evening’s event.

One caveat with these recommendations, however – these are all meant to be general wines that go well with a range of dishes. They’re not supposed to be “perfect” wines, because with the wildly varied spreads that you might get at many parties, there’s no such thing. You’ll just want to look for something that falls squarely into the “good enough” category.

Bubbly

Friexenet Extra Dry (NV) Cava – The Swiss Army knife of sparkling wine. One of my fallbacks for years. The trademark black bottle is available just about anywhere. Light, crisp, and flavorful. I prefer the Extra Dry to the Brut. (Remember, brut is actually drier than extra dry…) The dab of residual sugar makes it a more flexible food wine. Also a fabulous mixer if you’re doing cocktails like kir, bellinis, and the like – or if you need a mimosa to start the next day.

Riondo (NV) Prosecco – Prosecco, an Italian sparkling wine, makes an absolutely perfect aperitif. Light, floral, and pleasantly tasty with flavors of pear and peaches, it’s a great way to start out any event. Also an excellent brunch wine, if you’re looking for a solid choice along those lines.

Lighter Whites

Santa Rita “120” 2009 Sauvignon Blanc – From Chile, this very light styled sauvignon has a very high acid content, so it will handle most lighter foods with ease. It’s also a pleasant, refreshing sipping wine if you’re in the need for something along those lines. Packed full of grapefruit and flowers, it’s a nice “open as needed.”

Terra di Brigante 2008 Falanghina – Sannio, the home of this tasty little number, is the province adjoining Campania, where Naples is located. A very pretty nose of green apples and peaches. Nice amount of body with some gentle acidity and a backbone of light oak. The finish is crisp and slightly oaky. Another refreshing option on its own. It holds its own with grilled pork and fish dishes, especially if lemon sauces get into the act.

Lighter Reds

Louis Jadot 2009 Beaujolais-Villages – Another wine you can absolutely rely on when you have no clue what to expect on the other side of the door. For a red wine, Beaujolais is about as flexible a wine as you’re going to find. Beaujolais can sometimes be a little watery, but the Jadot is a bit firmer than most of its counterparts. Strawberries and cherries greet you with a fair amount of acidity backing them up. Serve it slightly chilled.

Hahn 2009 Pinot Noir – I almost hesitate to put this under the “lighter red” section, since for a pinot noir, it’s pretty substantial. Most pinot noirs at this price are either watery messes or lacking in any kind of complexity. They’ve done a nice job here. Big, smoky cherry flavors in a wine that could almost, almost pass for a light-bodied zinfandel. Very approachable either right out of the bottle or next to a plate of almost anything,

Bigger White/Rosé

Pacific Rim 2007 Columbia Valley Dry Riesling – Any time I host a meal where I know there’ll be folks who aren’t huge wine drinkers, I try to make sure that I have a couple of bottles of dry Riesling stashed away. Dry Riesling (or “trocken” if you’re in the German aisle) usually still has a little bit of sweetness to make it a crowd pleaser with many, but with enough complexity to be interesting to corkheads. The Pacific Rim is a solid bet. Plenty of orange and apple with some mineral on the finish. If you’ve got something spicy (whether Asian, Hispanic, Indian…doesn’t matter) to serve up, this wine hangs in against the heat.

La Vieille Ferme 2009 Cotes Du Ventoux Rosé – Heavier whites are tough. Chardonnay, the obvious choice, has flavors that are often too strong to be good “general” wines. I thought I’d avoid that quandary by going pink, since there are few better food pairing wines than dry rosé. Rosé works as a food wine because of the same principle as light whites – in general, wines with higher acid contents cut through food more easily. The red wine grapes that create rose give it a little more oomph than a white if you’re looking for something a little more substantial. This wine has plenty of tart cranberry and citrus flavor with a pleasant mineral backbone. Don’t fear the pink!

Bigger Reds

Charles Smith "The Velvet Devil" 2008 Merlot – Charles Smith’s wines don’t leave much to the imagination. This is a big hearty wine from a big-spirited man. Merlot is usually a good bet for reds with muscle, as it pairs equally well with heavier meats and chocolate. The Devil has a big nose of blueberries and violets. The body yields more forward blueberry flavors along with a hint of bacon. (And that's not a bad thing in the slightest.) It’s a little tart at the end with a long, nicely balanced-but-tannic finish.

Marquis Phillips 2007 Roogle Red – A tasty blend from Down Under. It’s half Shiraz. The other half is Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Petit Verdot. Another worthwhile choice for either red table wine next to steak and mushrooms, as a chocolate accompaniment, or just on its own. The wine’s nose is big and plummy with a full body of dark fruits. The finish dries out the fruit with some substantial tannin. Make sure you either give this wine time to breathe or decant it. If you don’t, your first sip will be a mouthful of tannins – but give it some room and it wakes up really well.

Have a great holiday season and be careful out there!

The Sweetly Logical Fallacy

When I do wine tastings, a lot of people say, “I don’t like dry wines – I only like sweet wines.” There’s nothing inherently wrong with liking sweet wine. A person’s taste is…well…personal. However, the notion of a wine as either “dry” or “sweet” is little more than a logical fallacy – the same fallacy used so effectively by certain political parties: the false dichotomy.

In case you haven’t taken a philosophy class lately, a false dichotomy is presenting two alternatives as an either-or choice, even though other alternatives exist. “You’re either with us or against us” is a classic example, because rarely are things that clear cut. (Unless you’re a Teabagger …)

Yes, one can think of “dry” and “sweet” as the ends of a range, but using “dry” and “sweet” as the way to describe a wine is a false choice. Why? Because not only are there countless shades of gray in between the two, but there are also other ranges that play into wine’s flavor that get lumped into “dry” or “sweet” – so one can’t simply isolate the level of sugar and call it a description.

When most people start learning about wine, they gravitate towards the varietals they’ve heard people talk about over and over: cabernet sauvignon, chardonnay, white zinfandel. For many, the first experience with red wine is with big ol’ California cabs, and the high level of tannins isn’t an easy thing to deal with initially. So, after what probably wasn’t a pleasant experience, they ask someone about the wine and get “Oh, red wines are dry wines. That’s why they taste so strong.”

There’s a similar effect with chardonnay, especially California chardonnay. A mouthful of butter-covered charcoal can be a rough start. (Yes, oaky chardonnays are tannic whites.) They hear, “Yep. Chardonnay. That’s a dry white wine.” Our poor newbie then turns to the bottle of Beringer White Zin. It tastes sweet and easy to drink (and brings back memories of high school Boone’s Farm adventures) – so they stick with pink syrup and now have a prejudice against a huge slice of the wine world.

Seriously, think about how bitter your first espresso was. Coffee’s bitterness also comes from tannins. (Mine was in a coffee shop in the Mission District of San Francisco. Took me 45 minutes to drink the damned thing…and it wasn’t exactly enjoyable.) While the bitterness of tannin can have a “drying” effect – it’s not what makes a wine “dry.” A wine’s dryness or sweetness comes from sugar, not tannin.

Think about how wine is made. As I’ve mentioned before, when yeast is added to the grape’s juice, the yeast eats the sugar, farts carbon dioxide, and pisses alcohol (until it dies of either starvation or alcohol poisoning). If the yeast consumes all of the sugar in a vat of juice, the wine is totally dry. When a winemaker stops the fermentation before all the sugar is consumed, what’s left over is the residual sugar. The more residual sugar, the greater the level of sweetness. If you’re looking at the specs on a bottle of wine, the amount of residual sugar is either presented as a percentage or in grams per liter. (Take g/l, divide by 10, and stick a % on the end if you want to convert.) Dry wines will be under 1% residual sugar, if they have any at all. Off-dry wines will be between 1-5%. Sweet wines will be 5% and up. Also, the higher the residual sugar, in general, the lower the alcohol content.

Why would a winemaker leave residual sugar in a wine? A winemaker worth his or her salt strives for balance in wine. The balance of dry and sweet is an important factor. Too much sugar and the sweetness overwhelm everything else. Not enough and other flavors can take over, rendering a wine unpleasant. The balance for sweetness is acidity. To keep a sweeter wine balanced, the acid level needs to go up. Too little acid and too much sugar makes for a white zinfandelish experience.

As for red wines, “dry” and “sweet” don’t really apply, since there are very few “sweet” reds. Most red wines contain virtually no residual sugar. If you’re describing a red, you’re going to be more interested in the level of tannin than the sweetness, so there’s not really a complement to the “dry” of tannin – other than “not tannic.”

(There’s also another reason why winemakers leave residual sugar. There’s an old saying: “A little sugar covers a lot of flaws.” These winemakers are either unlucky or lazy.)

But let’s get back to the whole dry/sweet question. Stepping outside the world of White Zinfandel, word association with “sweet wine” usually lands on Riesling. If we just want to look at the real difference between sweet and dry, white wine is the easiest place to get an illustration – Riesling especially. While the fruit and other flavor characteristics are certainly varied, let’s just focus on the sugar levels for now. I looked at three Rieslings.:

• Pierre Sparr 2008 Riesling Alsace (bone dry)
• D’Arenberg 2007 “The Dry Dam” Riesling (off-dry)
• Mönchof 2006 Estate Riesling QbA (sweet)

If you decide to try these side-by-side-by side, start with the driest and work your way to the sweetest. Pour, swirl, and sip. The differences will literally leap out of the glass at you.

First, the Pierre Sparr. A lot of folks have “tooth achingly sweet” as their mental reference for Riesling. A sip of this will throw that notion out the window. There’s almost no sweetness to this wine at all. There’s plenty of fruit and a little bit of a mineral finish, but the yeast has done its work here. This is common with Rieslings (and most other whites) from Alsace. The general wine style is very dry. Residual Sugar – basically none.

Secondly, try the D’Arenberg. This is a good example of a wine that’s “off-dry,” which means that there’s a little bit of residual sugar as a balancing agent for the other flavors. In this case, the D’Arenberg is a fairly acidic wine, so a little residual sugar tames the tart “bite” that acidic wines often have. The sugar is more of an honey undertone than sweetness right up in your face. Residual sugar – 1.1%

Finally, the Mönchof. You could certainly class this one as a sweet wine. The residual sugar level is about 5%, which also yields a lower-alcohol wine. The acid level is similar to the D’Arenberg – but the acid in this case prevents the wine from becoming syrupy. If you want a general idea of the level of sweetness and flavor, think baked apples with a little less sugar. It’s still reasonably well-balanced and quite pleasant. (And, at under 10% alcohol, you could almost have it for breakfast.)

To go back to the beginning, to help someone transition away from the world of Black Tower, Beringer, and other such syrups, I’ll usually slide something along the lines of the D’Arenberg or a friendly sauvignon blanc. I might then let them try a merlot or zinfandel if they’re willing to go red. Once they’ve made that transition, it’s a quick jump to broadening the horizons – which is the point of trying new wines, after all…